When the Lotus Falls
by Mizu no Kenshi
Summary: She has caught the eye of a devil, and he, trapped by deeds long past, will do anything to keep her by his side. A legend long forgotten begins to unfold-if you stray too far into the darkness, you could lose your heart. Literally. KanLena
1. Darkness Coming

This idea's been gnawing at me for some time now. Inspired by _Beauty and the Beast_, Stephen King, Shakespeare, as well as the fanfic "Beauty and the Beast" by The Extra. She's a great writer, by the way, so go check her out!

Note: This is set in a fantasy land, but somewhere around the 18th-19th century. Times where carriages and those fancy-froufrou ball gown things still make sense. There will be magic and the like.

**Disclaimer**: -man does not belong to me. And Kanda says his prayers for that.

* * *

"_Dark doings in the sleepiest small town loom dire and histrionic as a play."_

-Rachel Hadas

.

.

Theirs was a prosperous land, blessed with territory and closeness with the royalty. Businesses were flourishing, crops were sprouting, and crimes were few and far in between. The people were generally nice, the nobility kind, and visitors were welcomed.

It seemed the perfect town, from the jolly gentleman helping his wife out of a carriage to the kindly vendor giving children pieces of candy. It was not a place used to seeing true darkness.

Regardless, myths and legends will always flourish. They show no prejudice; everyone suffers, from the rich to the poor, the kind to the malevolent.

Even the kindest person will fall prey to the darkest sin. It was an addiction—no matter where you go, people will always have stories to tell, skeletons to show. They seemed to have a need to conjure up stories of the dark and foreboding as much as they needed to gossip about the girl who gave birth out of wedlock, or the man who went around with woman after woman, or maybe the family with a history of insanity.

There is a cruel streak in everyone; the question is whether it goes untouched or not. No one may ever know that the young gentleman routinely courts immorality in the form of promiscuous women, or that the kind vendor goes home and drinks and drinks and drinks until he no longer knows whether he is setting fire to the kindling or to his daughter's hand.

Sin is as much a part of humanity as is birth, life and death.

This land was no different.

Every house has dark corners, and within those shadows things best left untouched brewed. Beneath the bubbly cheer and accommodating atmosphere were legends as old as time itself.

And they were true.

**+†+**

The only myth that people still remember occurred very near here. Amongst the spacious and towering castles of the high nobles was another one, nearly forgotten but no less grand. The tallest part of it was a tower, domed and grey. It was nicknamed the "Tower of Thorns" for the deathly traps nature bestowed on those unfortunate enough to venture near; many a man had fallen prey to them and the gardens were now a mass grave.

Legend tells of a man who resided in that palace, a man so terrifyingly beautiful that it was with no stretch of the imagination that people branded him a demon. A man so deadly that men quivered, children cried, and women fled when they saw him—

—or so the tale goes. There has never been a living person who went there and returned to tell about it. Nonetheless, the stories persisted, the truth warped within them.

He never goes out, they say. He keeps monsters in the dungeons, they whisper. He drinks the blood of virgins, they gasp.

No one remembers who first built that place—for as long as they could remember, it had always been there, a fixture on the border of their happy little town, a blemish they tried to ignore and hide.

And as long as they remembered, the stories have always told of someone who saw a person in there.

No one was foolish enough to venture close to get a good glimpse of the inhabitant, but those courageous enough—or stupid enough—to hover on the border would sometimes see a ghost of a man. They always reported the same inky dark hair and cold, cold eyes. No matter the year, the time, the season; the reports were always the same. It would appear that only one person had lived in that tower.

For centuries.

These stories were always written off as outrageous tales, maybe a result of a children's game of courage or a little too much indulgence the night before. Even so, these sightings were woven into legends.

Their curiosity was not enough to overcome their fear, and so they made up stories. Perhaps he was a wayward traveler who sought solitude. Perchance he was some long-lost prince with amnesia, waiting to be found. Or maybe he was something darker and far more sinister.

Perhaps he wasn't human at all.

The people were content to let things be, and the castle remained a ghost story and a warning; nothing more, nothing less. But no matter what stories spun around it, it stayed off limits. There was a peculiar feeling around the area, and even the most logical townspeople refrained from going near the castle, or even looking at it, if they could help it.

Outwardly, the place looked no different than the kings' and queens'. It was opulent, but not flashily so. It stood tall, but not so tall that it took everyone's attention. Even so, many people found themselves thinking of that tower every now and then, usually on cold, dreary days or on dark nights when thoughts naturally bled into those of the other worldly.

It became a sort of tourist attraction for the town. People would come and ask about the tower, but none dared see it up close. They would stay a ways off, whispering and pointing. It was the town's own little skeleton.

As with everything, age began to dull their memory and washed away at the dark fear, and the story became just that; a myth to tell children for fun, a warning to never go alone into dark places, a legend to lull toddlers to sleep.

Only the oldest residents remembered another part of the story. The deaths and the disappearances.

Every couple of decades or so, a few people would begin to disappear. Eventually, some were recovered, but those who turned up were always dead. Each time it was different—there was no rhyme or reason for the disappearances, and no one had ever found the culprit. This led to yet another fearful discussion of 'that tower' and the powers it held.

Throughout the years, the place had been branded as evil, even if the people no longer remembered the reason why.

All they knew was that they told children to never go there.

Because they might never come out.

**+†+**

"Brother…?"

"Yes, my dear?"

"…no, never mind. It's nothing."

Lenalee turned towards the window once more, evading her brother's curious and mildly worried gaze. She bit her lip and wondered for the fifth time if she was truly doing the right thing by keeping this from him.

She didn't want to worry him with old wives' tales and make-believe myths, but things were just getting too strange.

_She had first come across that tower purely on accident, though lord knows how that happened. The castle wasn't exactly hard to miss, but she found herself beginning to wander on one of her nightly strolls, and before she knew it, the tower loomed before her._

_Fear immediately took root, but on its heels followed curiosity. Like others, she had only heard stories of this place and seen it from afar. She, too, knew of the man who supposedly dwelled within its cold walls, never aging and always there, like a malevolent sprite intent on staying. She was terrified out of her wits, and rightfully so. They said that those who approached the tower were never found again, and she half-expected to be stabbed any second now. _

_She had shaken her head, dismissing the fear as a remnant of childhood. There was no reason to fear tales that had no proof, and who had ever heard of a never-aging man anyway? Demons and sorcerers lived in aged paper, after all._

_The fear subsided and Lenalee took a good look at her surroundings. Belatedly, she realized that there were thorns everywhere (and in the back of her mind, she wondered why she hadn't come across any before?)—swathing the edges of the castle, looped around the columns, splayed along the ground; however, they did not look like the fabled bloody barbs that took men's lives._

_True, in broad daylight the place looked harmless, even up close. The most foreboding thing about it seemed to be the nest of rats by the wall. She could not say it looked grimy, but it didn't look as if anyone lived in it either._

_She craned her neck and, as she expected, the windows remained dark. No head peered out at her, no glowing coal eyes entrapped her in their gaze, and no beast drank her soul or ate her flesh. In the caress of the sun, this place looked exactly as it did; an abandoned castle that was well-preserved by nature. _

_Curiosity took a hold of her once more and she walked around it once, twice. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, and she had even been so bold as to touch the walls. They felt cold and dead._

_Smiling slightly, she turned to head back, silently mocking the women who held so much fear and respect for this place._

_Halfway down the path, she turned to take a last look at the castle, and her blood froze as the smile melted off her face._

_There was a light on in the tower._

_Without thinking, she fled, away from the tales and legends that nipped at her feet and back home to the safety of reality._

_Once at home in the comfort of her bed, she immediately scolded herself for her foolishness. There couldn't have been a light there. The last time someone had purportedly seen a man in the tower had been over two centuries ago, and no man could possibly live that long. Just a trick of the light, that's all. _

_She went to sleep restlessly, refusing to entertain the thought that perhaps the man really wasn't human after all._

_The second night, she had once again found herself staring at the castle. Her heart drummed against her throat in dismay. She knew she hadn't been headed here—she had been walking the opposite way! The feeling of unease rose, tension showing in the straight line of her body._

_This time, she didn't bother playing the inquisitive child—she wanted to run, run away from this place and keep running, running until she could no longer see the peak of the tower. She bit back a cry as a light flashed on in the tower once more, a half-second before she whipped around and bolted._

_Her mind blocked out the shadow that had suddenly appeared before the light, a black speck in the cold-gold halo, but far more threatening._

_She was not foolish enough to chance a third meeting—that night, she stayed in. She was reassured by Komui's presence, and between the teasing dinner conversations and contorted games of chess, she could almost believe she had dreamed the entire thing._

_It had happened again as she sat on the window seat in her room, catching up on her reading. She had glanced outside for a short break and was dismayed to find that from this angle, the tower was perfectly in view. _

_Grimacing darkly, she refused to back down. In the safe confines of her room, her courage rose. She would not be spooked by what those village women spouted—she wasn't as weak as that. She continued staring, issuing an unvoiced challenge. It was childish, but she couldn't help herself. Believing it was a dream was far easier than accepting that it wasn't. _

_Minutes passed, and just as she was about to smile in triumph, fears forgotten—_

—_the light shone once more. _

Thinking back to it, she felt both silly and afraid. There was no reason to believe in those fairy tales, and yet, there was no other explanation. Who else but the original inhabitant would have the guts to live there? The fact that the light had gone on every time she had been there meant someone was watching and waiting. It seemed as if she had earned some unwanted attention, for reasons unbeknownst to her.

Much as she disliked the theory, the pieces fit—the reason there was a light on, the reason why no matter how long she stared, she never saw anyone go in nor out. The reason why in the ocean between dreaming and waking, she thought she had heard some silky voice whispering her name.

After that third night, she had continued sitting there, waiting and watching out of morbid compulsion. Each time, the light had always appeared.

It was the seventh night now, and she had no doubt that the light would shine once more.

Dread pooled in her stomach. There had been no talk of such occurrences at the Tower of Thorns, and with the kind of gossips that resided here, the only possible reason was that no one else had seen it, save herself.

She could hear her brother bustling about in the next room, and she strengthened her resolve to make no mention of this to him. She had the feeling that there was a reason why the light only appeared for her, and while this greatly troubled her, she didn't want her brother caught up in any of this madness. He had enough to deal with as it is.

Nothing good could come of this. If anything, she was the one who had incurred its wrath, and she would be the one to face it.

Resigned, she felt herself facing the window once more, as if an invisible force compelled her to do so. As expected, there was the light, as bright as ever. Its wispy glow seemed to be beckoning to her. Bleakly, she traced a finger over the frosty glass, staring dully into the brightness that enveloped her whole.

**+†+**

The room was dark. It was always dark here, no matter the time. Over the years, pain and loneliness had sunk in their ugly fangs and taken over, blanketing everything in a heavy air. He could light all the lamps he wanted and open all the windows, but there was always a looming feeling of darkness and suffocation.

He strode briskly down a long hallway, ignoring the opulence that surrounded him. He had been here too long to appreciate their beauty anymore. They were now merely a reminder of his state. The term 'bird in a gilded cage' had never been more appropriate.

For the seventh night in a row, he made his way to the tower, cloak whispering against the stone steps.

It had been a long time since anyone had dared come this far—this one had even had the audacity to touch his walls.

He felt the beginning of interest prickling at his conscience. It was this feeling that made him go up to the tower every night. Despite having been a part of this castle for as long as he remembered, he had never liked that tower. He had the distinct impression that if he were to stay in there for too long, he would eventually lose the last of himself.

It was only this last chance, this last hope for something he had missed out on that drove him.

He was at the top of the stairs now. Stepping forward, he gazed silently at the large, ornate lantern. Its silver edges flashed and shone, begging to be lit.

It seemed as if he had successfully garnered her attention, and he intended to keep it. He thought with some bleak irony at how the lantern had come to help him so.

The ghost of a smile curved his lips. He stared out at the land, lamp glowing brightly behind him.

.

.

†

* * *

And that's chapter 1 for ya! So, how many clichés can Mizu throw into one story? A lot.

Any guesses as to who the man is? (Not that hard, really…)

I hope you guys like it so far! It's hard writing AU -man, and I hope I haven't completely butchered the characters. I actually had this written a while back already, but I kept on re-editing it. If not good, it's at least better than my previous attempts. D:


	2. And the Demon Makes His Move

Sorry for the delay! Here's chapter two. Finally, some interaction between Kanda and Lenalee. Sorta.

**Disclaimer**: -man does not belong to me, and neither does the James Joyce line/reference.

* * *

"_When you see something just beyond your peripheral vision, you may be inclined to take a closer look. But it's also best not to do so."_

-Nakayama Masaaki

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.

Twigs snapped and leaves rustled as he ran, breathless and eyes wild. The forest seemed to stretch forever—its shadows twisted and curved, extensions of a darker evil, grasping at the life that had stumbled into their dead embrace. Stumbling and falling, he finally made his way to where the trees melted into sky. The garish signs and towering mansions had never seemed so inviting.

Komui fell onto his hands and knees, gasping for breath.

"_That man—no, that monster…why would he ask for that?"_

Casting a fearful glance back at the darkness that hid the castle, he scrambled upright and fled.

**+†+**

Lenalee sighed, putting her book down. It was no use—she would get no further tonight. She'd been on the same page for the last twenty minutes. Lately, she had found it hard to concentrate, even on the simplest of tasks. Ever since she had first seen the glow from that tower, it seemed as if she could hardly think about anything else. It was now the third week and the light had yet to cease.

It was either her imagination or the light truly did appear to grow brighter as the days went on, as if taunting her.

_Enticing her_.

A crash broke through her reverie as she looked up dully. It would appear that she was not the only one who had things on her mind.

"Brother…? What's wrong?"

Komui was staring down at the broken teacup with a dazed look in his eyes.

"Brother?" Lenalee called again, fear beginning to tinge her voice. He had been really out of it lately…

Her normally rational brother had come home one night so rattled that he had slammed the door after him and leaned against it, breathing heavily.

_His eyes—_

_**Tell no more of enchanted days**_

—_his eyes were empty pools of hopelessness._

But no matter how often she pestered him, he refused to tell her anything. Ever since then, he seemed to be on edge all the time, jumpy and afraid.

"Brother!"

Komui snapped around. "O-oh! Lenalee…what is it?"

"Are you ok? You looked really out of it." _You've been really out of it for a long while._ Lenalee stared up into her brother's eyes, willing herself to find some clue of what his troubles were.

Abruptly, he turned away, evading her inquiring eyes.

"It's nothing. Nothing at all…" He picked up the broken pieces and disposed of them. Pausing at the threshold, he turned briefly, as if he were about to say something. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but then he resolutely pressed his lips together and left without a word.

Lenalee stared at the doorway, more unsettled than reassured.

**+†+**

Komui sat down at his desk, sighing like a man well over seventy. Haphazardly throwing his glasses on the table, he rubbed his eye with the heel of his palm.

He had seldom felt so helpless before, and he hated it. This time the feeling was far worse, because it involved his sister—and anything that involved his sister always made him worry more than he should.

His sister…Lenalee had always meant so much to him. The feeling wasn't incestuous, but if there was ever a person who loved his sibling as much as he did without crossing that line, then he was it.

Ever since their parents had vanished, Komui took it upon himself to care for his sister as best he could. It hadn't been easy, but he never once regretted it. Even when their parents had been around, he had always had an unusual relationship with her. They were not like other siblings who fought over toys or squabbled at dinner. For as long as he could remember, he had always taken special care of Lenalee. He pampered her like the princess she deserved to be.

Which is what made this so hard. He was actually quite amazed at how long Lenalee had stayed with him. With her beauty, it was no surprise that quite a few men wished to court her; however, she either found them lacking or was too kind to leave her brother. She never once accepted a date, much less a proposal.

Much as he wished for her to be happy, he was secretly pleased. His world revolved around her—always has and always will. He didn't know how well he'd fare if he no longer had her to make his life bearable.

There were times where he would look at her and wish fervently that he could just take her away to some far-away place where it would be just the two of them—she could suffice with just him, couldn't she?

_They had always been together; he could provide her with everything she'd ever want—_

But he knew that was selfish and wishful thinking. There was no way he could keep her, a bird in a cage, all to himself. He knew that one day, the time would come where he would have to hand her over to someone else, and she would become the center of that person's life just like she was his now.

_-forever and always_

And what if Lenalee did not wish to be bothered with him any longer once she had someone else? There was a lurking fear within him that she might no longer need to rely on him—no longer wish to confide in him, take walks with him, playing messed up versions of chess…

If she pushed him away, he would fall and keep falling, deprived of his anchor.

**+†+**

Staring determinedly at the door to her brother's office, Lenalee knocked twice.

"Yes?"

"I have your coffee, brother."

"Oh, thank you, let me get that—" The door opened and she stepped in. After handing the coffee off, she didn't leave—instead, she leaned against the cluttered desk and crossed her arms. She glared at Komui unrelentingly.

'Uh-oh.' Komui tried to remain firm and unyielding while simultaneously attempting to hide behind his pink coffee cup. He knew that glare very well, and it promised lots of pain to come if his answers proved unsatisfactory.

His heart sank as she glared on. He had always been unable to refuse her, and she knew it well.

Lenalee watched him squirm through narrowed eyes. This only further confirmed her suspicion that something was up. Komui was horrible at keeping secrets from her.

"Well?" she asked at length.

"Well what?" Komui valiantly tried to maintain an air of nonchalance. He leaned against the door and desperately resisted the urge to bolt.

"You know very well what!" The worry and aggravation made her voice sharper than it normally was. "I know there's something you're not telling me, and it has to do with what scared you so badly that night."

The last echoes of her accusation rang loud and Komui sagged, closing his eyes. He knew she would figure it out—he was a horrible actor, after all, and she had always been keen on things like this.

He sipped his coffee to buy himself some time. "Lenalee…that was…" he floundered for words, wanting to protect her but at the same time knowing that this was too big a deal to keep all to himself—though that didn't stop him from trying.

"Tell me."

"Lenalee, it doesn't have anything to do with you," he lied, "don't worry about it—"

"Tell me!" Lenalee had the sinking feeling that whatever happened that night had something to do with the way she had felt increasingly nervous and haunted as each night passed.

She was proven right.

Resigned, Komui walked towards her, his coffee forgotten on a pile of old papers.

"Come here." He put an arm around her shoulder and led her to the lone window. "Look."

Lenalee was slightly unnerved at how her brother sounded—so tired and defeated. She glanced out the window, now more concerned about her brother's state than whatever was troubling him.

"Brother, are you—" she began.

"Look!" She flinched back reflexively. She had never heard her brother sound so agitated or angry, though it didn't seem to be directed at her.

She looked again, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary.

"What…?"

"Over there. Near the forest," he ordered.

She did as she was told, and just before she caught sight of it, she shivered as an unexplainable fear filled her. It was a warning, and she realized that the moment she turned.

If she craned her neck just right, the top of the tower would be in view. It was unlit, but that seemed rather inconsequential right now. Komui knew—he knew the legends were not merely words. Perhaps he had even seen that man—monster? Had he seen the light as well?

She could feel the razor edge of dread lodge in her throat, threatening to pull her under. Lenalee bit back the urge to moan, suppressing a sudden bout of nausea. "That's…"

"The Tower of Thorns."

Her shoulders slumped. "So you know too…" Komui looked surprised at Lenalee's overwhelmed yet unsurprised tone.

"What? You—you knew about that…" Komui hesitated, unwilling to finish the sentence.

"Yes. It's been going on for a while now." She turned back to the tower, but was startled when Komui suddenly lunged forward and gripped her shoulders. She'd never seen him so frightened.

"_What?_"

Lenalee blinked, too shocked to respond. He shook her, fear deepening his voice into a raspy breath.

"What do you mean 'for a while now'? How long has it been going on? Has he been seeing you all this time?"

Putting a hand over one of his own, her brain went over what he had just said.

"He? You mean…the man in the tower?" The words had barely left her mouth before her brother nearly had an epileptic seizure.

"So now he's got you too," he murmured mournfully, sliding to the ground and leaning against the wall. "Has he asked you the same?"

Something clicked. She knelt before her brother, heart aching at the old and tired lines eating away at his face. "Wait, I think you've got it wrong…" She trailed off, heart nearly bursting at the sudden fever-bright hope in his eyes.

"I…" she hesitated. "I haven't had any contact with that man—I mean, I've seen him, but it was only a shadow in the light." Both of them caught her slight tremor at the word 'man'.

"Light? What light?" Komui was almost afraid to ask.

This was going to be a long night. '_I knew it_.' Lenalee wasn't sure whether she should be glad or upset—it seemed as if Komui hadn't seen the light after all, but if she had read him right, then what he had encountered was far worse.

She sighed and settled down next to him. This would take a while to explain.

**+†+**

Lenalee glanced at her brother. The two of them still sat side by side, silent in the wake of her explanation. She wasn't sure how well he was taking it—his silences could be either good or bad.

Finally, he stirred. Sighing, he turned towards her slowly.

"So…what you saw was that light, huh?"

"Yes…"

"It's always come on? Every night since?"

"Yes…and it always turned on after I started looking at the tower. It's never been on already when I looked." Lenalee bit her lip, inwardly hoping Komui wouldn't freak out too much.

"Why haven't you told me about this before?" He couldn't keep all of the anger out of his voice, though he tried to get a hold of himself when he saw her wince.

"I didn't want you to worry," she mumbled. "Besides, it wasn't like he was _doing_ anything…I thought—I thought it would just go away after a while."

He was silent for a time, but then continued with the questions in a rush, as if asking them faster would help him take it all in, or better yet, prove it to be a dream. "You've never met the man? Not face to face, at least."

"Yes," Lenalee sighed. She closed her eyes briefly and uttered an internal prayer of thanks for that. She wasn't sure how well she would have handled meeting him.

Komui grinned ruefully. "Guess I got worked up over nothing."

She turned to him in surprise. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, if all you've seen is the light, that means he is being careful with you," Komui began matter-of-factly. If he was still afraid, then he was doing a good job of hiding it. "He hasn't shown himself to you in person yet, unlike me. Maybe he's not sure of something, or is hesitating…better yet, maybe this means he _can't. _Therefore…as long as you stay away from that place, you should be fine."

Lenalee stared at him skeptically.

"So what am I supposed to do, stay inside all day?"

"Sure, why not?" His teasing smile dropped at Lenalee's glare. "Alright, alright. I'm serious, though. You had me so worried when I thought he had actually been to see you. I…I'd feel better if you at least stayed near home."

Lenalee could not refuse her brother's pleading glance, and she murmured her consent.

"On one condition."

Komui nearly sighed in relief. As long as he could ensure her safety, there was nothing he wouldn't agree to.

She raised her chin and looked him in the eye. He had gotten his answers—now she wanted hers.

"Tell me what he came to see you about."

**+†+**

Pacing the confines of his room, he sat down abruptly on a lush loveseat in braided gold. He had no illusions about that man—Komui, was that his name?—and he was certain he would never comply with his request. Or demand, as it were. He thought of his little visit as no more than a warning veiled as a formality.

Fingering a tassel thoughtfully, he was a picture of relaxed hauteur, legs crossed and blue-black hair spilling across his shoulders.

However, in actuality, he was burning with passion deep within, a passion so scalding that he could almost feel the heat.

This raw emotion was still new to him—then again, powerful emotion of any kind was something he seldom visited. Even the eternal rage of the ancients had dulled by now.

He had first seen her by chance, lost in one of his increasingly frequent strolls throughout his palace. Much as he disliked the place, he often felt the urge to walk about, taking a different route each time, almost as if by doing so he could eventually find his way out.

But what he truly desired escape from was not the palace itself, but something deeper, something that bound him irrevocably.

_He had noticed her presence immediately as soon as she came within his territory, and he thought nothing of it at first. It happened every few years or so, though the intervals in between had gotten longer as of late._

_He regarded those fools as a means of entertainment. There was a certain malignant joy he got out of watching them scamper around, terrified of the unknown; oh how he loved the expression on their faces when they realized he was no story and every inch as terrifying, if not more so. _

_This time, the intruder was a girl. His curiosity prickled beneath his cold exterior—in all his time, he had only ever met one or two girls, usually running from some horrible past, horrible enough that they would rather chance a night under his watch._

_But this one was different. She did not seem to be fleeing, nor was she like those impudent fools wanting a good laugh. It seemed as if she had merely been taking a stroll and somehow wound up here. Now that was a first—he had yet to meet someone who had come here unknowingly and this thought alone almost made him smile._

_He assessed her carefully from his place in the shadows. She was fair and attractive, though not what you would call a once-in-a-lifetime beauty; however, something about the tilt of her lips and the strength of her eyes made one forget how ordinary she was. He liked those expressive eyes._

_He could see the fear flitter nervously through her eyes, but then she seemed to suppress that moment's falter and instead, squared her shoulders as if expecting the castle to charge her. Growing bored, he had almost written her off until he noticed her tracing her fingers over the wall. _

_Awe was apparent in her eyes as he watched her enjoy the architecture, not seeming to mind that she was in the devil's lair. Something long dead began to stir in him but he ignored it, intent upon the scene before him._

_A smirk appeared on his lips as he innocently lit the large lantern in the bowels of the tower._

_Glancing surreptitiously out the window, he was amused to see the terror flit back into her eyes as she fled. He was pleased to see she wasn't as stupid as he had thought. _

_His eyes followed her, farther than the human eye could see, until she was safely back in her home._

His grip on the tassel had become terribly tight and he had to make a conscious effort to loosen his grip. Sighing, he tilted his head back and closed his eyes, dismayed that the mere thought of the girl was enough to let his iron control slip even just a little.

This would not do. This would not do at all. It was time to stop playing games; let the mice know their place.

**+†+**

"_He wanted WHAT?_"

Komui winced and tried not to crawl out of the room as fast as he could like the terrified man he was right now. There was something about an angry Lenalee that struck terror in even the strongest men.

"Well it's not like I agreed!"

"Well I know _that_," Lenalee replied hotly. "Besides, if you did, I'd have your head. Anyway—why did he go ask you then? Why not just directly ask me?"

"Um…" Again, he floundered.

"You have no idea, do you."

"…"

Lenalee sighed and pressed her fingers to her temple. She could feel a migraine coming on. Dimly, she thought that she should probably be more afraid than angry right now, but she wasn't. Fear didn't sit too well with her—she had always been odd like that.

"Well, did he say anything else?" Lenalee prodded.

"…oh! He said he'd break all the bones in my legs and arms and hang me upside-down from a tree if I didn't agree."

"…did he say anything _helpful_?"

"Well—hey! Aren't you at all worried for my safety?" Komui mock-cried.

Lenalee rolled her eyes. "You're still here, aren't you? Besides, I thought you told him no."

"I did! Multiple times, in fact." Komui seemed rather proud of that, from the way he was smiling.

She stared, unimpressed. "…and he just took it?"

"…er…actually…ok, so I screamed no and then ran like a little girl."

She sighed. That's Komui for you. She knew he was trying to make light of this situation to make her feel better, but that did nothing to hide the truth.

The headache came back with full force.

'_This is ridiculous. He doesn't even know me!'_ The fear was catching up to her now.

"Brother…so what do we do now?"

_-give her to me-_

Just like that, the light atmosphere disappeared and Komui looked old again. He looked at his beloved sister sadly and whispered, "I don't know."

_-the world is coming to an end_

_ the lands will crumble into dust, the skies will fall into the oceans_

_ and darkness will have its hold on the world once more—_

**+†+**

Now, hours later, it was dark again. This time, both of them were sitting in Lenalee's room, looking at the tower—watching, waiting. It was getting closer to the time the light usually came on, and Lenalee wondered if it would still glow despite Komui being here. She didn't like to think about either answer.

For his part, Komui seemed to be rather calm. He was a scientist at heart, after all, and she had no doubt that a part of all this intrigued him.

"Is it almost time?" His voice was raspy and low.

"Probably…there's no set time it comes on. It's just usually sometime around nine." She toyed with a thread on her pillow, almost wishing she could just block everything out and hide under the covers like when she was little.

Suddenly, there was a sharp intake of breath. Komui grabbed her hand and she could feel his tremors.

The light was on, but this time, it was different. It flashed—once, twice, three times. Lenalee could feel her stomach drop. It was ridiculous, impossible. But…

_He knows…he knows Komui's watching this too_.

And he was telling them that this would not stop him—he would still get what he wanted.

Komui was still trembling—she was too, she realized—and his mouth had thinned into a jagged line. Lenalee waited for the light to fade as it always did after a few minutes or so, but nothing happened. It stayed on, as bright as ever.

She turned to her brother, confused and helpless. He tried to speak but no words came out—he could only shrug feebly as they kept watch.

"What the—" Komui cried out abruptly, just as the light suddenly got painfully bright, extending its rays deep into her room. He threw an arm across his eyes and then slowly lowered it until the brightness became bearable.

The light outside the window stretched, wider and wider. Shadows and colors shifted until there was the unmistakable grinning face of a demon right before them.

Lenalee gripped her brother's shoulder hard, robbed of her words. Her tongue felt thick and dry in her mouth as she stared, wide-eyed. The face floated on, its mouth moving in silent laughter.

Then, just as suddenly as it had come, it was gone, leaving no trace behind except the dazzling imprint burned beneath their eyelids.

She turned slowly to Komui, seeing the same understanding rise painfully in his eyes. Even without words, they both knew.

They could not hope to stop him. He was someone beyond their power—beyond any power this world held.

He had chosen to give them a warning. He could reach them at any time, any place.

There was no escape.

**+†+**

His footsteps were quick, silent—

_deadly_

—as he approached the manor. He appraised it instinctively, noting the well-kept rose gardens and terraces, the shining banisters, delicately carved columns. He contemplated his entrance, then strode briskly through the front door, letting it swing shut silently behind him as it locked itself in place once more.

Closing in on his target with pinpoint precision, he felt a sense of anticipation—

_it had been so long since he last felt anything at all_

—and finally, there he was, a mere panel of wood standing between him and his goal, thin and breakable.

Without hesitation, his hand reached forward and closed over the knob, wrenching it open and letting the warm light through him into view.

_This time, he would get what he wanted._

.

.

†

* * *

And chapter two has come to an end! Wow. I feel such a sense of…relief and accomplishment at finishing a second chapter of something decent (I hope). Some sections were really hard to write, and I'm sorry if it shows. D: I know this chapter feels sort of bland and boring—it's really more of a clarifying-explaining-details kind of chapter. The next one will get better.

Now—as I duck from the flying bricks at the cliffhanger—I hope you liked it, and I hope to have chapter 3 out soon. And yes, ok, ok, I lied—they didn't _really_ interact yet. I promise it'll happen in chapter 3 though! -flees-

Read and review, thanks? :3


	3. Concealed Faith

Here's the promised Kanda-Lenalee interaction!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own D. Gray-man nor the lines from James Joyce.

* * *

"_A lie would have no sense unless the truth were felt as dangerous."_

-Alfred Adler

.

.

Her head rose in startled apprehension as the door to the parlor swung open. Staring, her mouth fell open in shock at the sight of a strangely beautiful man who had just let himself into her home.

Warily, she stood and looked him over carefully. He was well-dressed and had a look of polite disinterest on his face, and yet he exuded a kind of aura about him, one that told people to stay their distance.

"May I help you?" Lenalee finally asked carefully, standing and tensed.

Her mind suddenly flashed back to early this morning, where Komui had instructed her to be extremely cautious, given the recent events. He had been so worried that he had almost forgone the trip entirely.

She sincerely hoped there was no basis for his concern.

"Ah, forgive my rude entrance." His voice was silky-smooth and dark as smoking coal. "You are Komui's sister, I believe?"

"And how do you know that?"

"I am an acquaintance of his", he said without a pause. "I had intended to stop by and speak with him about some matters, but it would appear that he is not here."

"At the moment, no." Lenalee let herself relax a bit, but still watched the man carefully. He had said he knew Komui, and while he had many associates, there were few she did not know.

Furthermore, she could have sworn both the doors and gate were locked. Nevertheless, etiquette dictated that she entertain her guest, however odd he may seem.

"You are welcome to—"

"Well. I shall wait for his return, then." His lofty undertone bothered her, but she let it slide.

"Of course," she grumbled softly.

Leading him to an arbitrary room, she excused herself to go check on the locks.

They were indeed unlocked, which, ironically enough, calmed her fears.

She walked back inside to find that the pretty stranger was not where she had left him. Panic momentarily overwhelmed her before she heard the quiet clinking coming from the kitchen and the warm aroma of French vanilla.

"What?" He raised a brow at her perplexed expression and continued stirring. "A good hostess should offer the guest something to drink, you know." He smirked and walked past her to the room he had been led to.

Huffing behind him, she watched as he made himself at home, sitting down and taking a sip of his drink in one smooth motion.

Hesitantly, she sat a ways from him and cautiously asked, "The matter you had with my brother…"

"It's a business matter of sorts."

"I see."

There they sat, her scrutinizing him furtively and he staring at nothing. Silence reigned until Lenalee glanced at the chiming clock, announcing the eleventh hour. Her gaze moved back to the stranger—belatedly, she realized she didn't even know his name—who had seemed content to wait however long it took. Indeed, he had already been here for quite some time and his drink had long gone cold, emptied to the dregs.

"Um…I don't think he's going to be coming home tonight…"

She elaborated upon seeing that aristocratic brow raised again. "He often comes home late and sometimes not at all when he's deep in the middle of research or notes. Looks like today's going to be one of those days."

"Very well. We will continue this another time, then." The man got up and regarded her with liquid-black eyes, a glint of amusement shining in them. "After all, it would seem as if I had overstayed my welcome."

Flustered, she made to protest and feebly lie her way out, but he merely waved a hand at her and let himself out with a simple 'goodbye'.

Minutes later, she found herself still staring, dumbfounded, at the door. She still didn't know his name.

**+†+**

"Mail!"

Lenalee ducked calmly as the expected crash came and the mail boy went sailing over her head.

"Are you quite alright?" she asked mildly, picking up the letters addressed to her.

"Ahh, sorry miss," the boy groaned, disentangling himself from his bike. "Guess I lost control, huh?"

"Mm, just like you do every day." She grinned at the face he made. "Stop playing games. Other people are still waiting for their mail, you know." She continued to stand there, sifting through her letters and waiting for their routine to start.

"Yes, miss. Hey, um…miss? Want to, you know…lunch? After my shift?"

_A hopeful smile_

"Sorry, not today."

_A gentle reproach_

"Huh, not today either. Well, okay! Be seein' ya!" With a wave and a clatter, he was off again.

_And so the girl waits once more_

Lenalee smiled wistfully—he was always cheerful and seemed to take her rejections well, but she knew the talk that was going around.

With all the rejections she gave out, people were beginning to think she was odd or had ridiculously high hopes.

It was neither, truth be told. In actuality, it was just that no one had ever caught her attention long enough to interest her. She was satisfied with her life as it was—perhaps she wouldn't be forever, but at the moment, she was content.

A letter in the stack caught her eye and she recognized her brother's messy scrawl. Scanning it quickly, she sighed and refolded it. It seemed like this business trip would take longer than he had anticipated; he would be gone for at least four more days.

She was used to being alone. The life of a scientist was a journey of knowledge, and they committed themselves wholeheartedly to it, no matter where it may take them.

She didn't normally tangle with ideas of romance; perhaps it was the stress, coupled with the mail boy and Komui's absence, or maybe she was finally feeling the effects of the gossip. Whatever it was, Lenalee could not help but think of the beautiful stranger from the night before.

**+†+**

Lenalee sighed, drawing the covers closer to herself as she wished again for Komui's quick return. One thing she had neglected to factor in was the light, and she was feeling the tightening tendrils of fear as the time grew nearer. She had no doubt that it knew Komui was not home, and she feared what would happen.

Tense as she was, she nearly had a heart attack when a knock sounded loudly. As it was, she jumped a good foot in the air.

"What on earth—?" Climbing out of bed and shaking the covers from where they had wrapped around her legs, she stumbled her way to the front door.

The knocking continued as she made her way through the dining room, grumbling all the while.

"I'm coming, already!" She finally got to the door and yanked it open, ready to chew out whoever was making such a racket outside.

Instead, she met a silk-clad chest two inches from her nose. She squeaked and jerked back reflexively, which he took as invitation to come in.

"What's wrong? I thought I'd knock this time." He quirked an eyebrow at her and even though his face remained impassive, she got the feeling that he was laughing at her.

"What do you want this time?" she grouched. She had felt restless the entire day and the nap she took seemed to tire her out even more. Needless to say, she was feeling notably cranky as of now.

"Same thing I wanted last time," he replied mildly. "I take it he isn't back yet?"

"That's right, and he won't be back for a while. Now if you would…"

"What's the rush?"

"Do you know what time it is—hey!" She gaped at his back as he ignored her and propped himself on a couch. Smiling mockingly, he gestured for her to join him.

Slamming the door shut angrily, she sat herself on a loveseat across from him, arms crossed.

What was he doing, just sitting there and grinning at her? She scowled and, in a fit of childishness, stuck her tongue out at him.

For some reason, this seemed to delight him, as he laughed and reached over to tease her hair.

"Don't stick your tongue out at someone unless you want it to go missing," he said lightly.

Swatting his hands away, she replied in turn, "And you keep your hands to yourself if you don't want _them_ to be missing."

He merely grinned.

Her previous anger forgotten, Lenalee felt a smile growing on her own face and quickly redirected the conversation. "Anyway, if you still wish to meet with my brother, he just sent me a letter today saying he might not be back for a couple of days."

He again looked unruffled. "Don't worry about it. The matter is not urgent."

_Then why do you keep coming here?_ Before she realized it, he was getting out of his seat.

"Well then, I take my leave." He was already halfway to the door when Lenalee suddenly remembered something.

"Oh! Wait, I don't know your name."

"Hm?"

"Your name. I…I want to know your name." She suddenly felt uncomfortable being stared at so intensely by those smoldering eyes. _Did they always have that strange light?_

"Ah, that. Well, you will find out soon enough. Goodbye."

"Hey—!" The door closed quietly and she was left to ponder what he meant by that statement.

It was only after she had settled in for the night that she realized that, with the appearance of her stranger again, she had completely forgotten to watch out for the light.

**+†+**

This time, when the knocking began in the early afternoon, she was ready.

She opened the door to the expected porcelain skin and ebony waterfall, though this time he had brought a wrapped box. At least he came at a decent hour this time.

"Didn't I tell you he won't be back today either?" She looked pointedly at him, then nodded towards the box. "What's in that?"

"A present," he breezed, strolling right past her.

"I'm sure." She rolled her eyes and picked up the tray of tea she had already prepared and pulled out a second cup.

"So what _are_ you here for, anyway?"

"I thought I'd keep you company. It must get lonely around here all by yourself," he said, waving a hand.

"Better than some people who have apparently nothing to do."

She had meant it as a teasing remark, but shadow flitted over his eyes before he smirked and hid behind his teacup.

She mimicked him and let her mind wander, specifically to the mysteries surrounding this man.

She realized with sudden clarity that she knew nothing about him, not even his name. She hadn't even thought to ask Komui about him. Reprimanding herself silently, she lamented over all the things that could have gone wrong with inviting a total stranger into one's home. Thankfully, it seemed all she got was a rather peculiar and handsome man with a penchant for hanging around.

"What's your name?" she asked abruptly.

He stared at her levelly and remarked, "I'm surprised you hadn't asked earlier. Are you always this lax with strangers?"

Bristling at the subtle barb, Lenalee was about to retort when he let out an amused laugh. The sound was just like him—mysterious and dark, but pleasant like the roar of the tiger announcing his dominance.

"Kanda. My name's Kanda." His eyes were still twinkling and she felt herself becoming captivated, a moth drawn to the flame.

Summoning the strength to break free from the troubling hold he seemed to have on her, she tried to pretend everything was normal.

"Is that your first name or your last name?" She licked her lips, a habit she fell into whenever she was nervous. She never noticed the gleam that flared up in his eyes.

"That you will have to find out." He silenced her protest with a hand, continuing. "Enough about me. Let's talk about you."

Lenalee pouted, nearly bursting with curiosity. "Why me? Besides, don't you already know me through Komui? It's not fair that I don't know anything about you."

"Ah, but one never mixes personal affairs with business." That maddening glint was back again. "Humor me and perhaps I shall answer some of your own questions after."

And now, hours later, the conversation was finally trickling to a halt.

Lenalee leaned back and stared at the cushion she was holding. She had expected the mundane questions such as her favorite color or what she liked to do, but he had surprised her.

He—Kanda, she thought—posed such intricate and profound questions mixed with outlandish and frivolous ones that she was continuously being caught off guard. He even asked about her views on magic.

His last question had surprised her. She hadn't pegged him as a gullible man, and yet here he was asking her about such things.

Then again, magic seemed to be a popular—albeit hidden—interest nowadays. Perhaps he was merely curious.

That aside, she was surprised to find she genuinely enjoyed these discussions. His presence was a welcome distraction from the silence that permeated the house, and as his questions persisted, she grew comfortable with him.

Their talk was easy and smooth, punctuated with bright laughter or mock indignation. She couldn't remember the last time she had such a long talk with someone other than her brother.

It was already well past late afternoon when they stopped.

"It's getting late," she began reluctantly.

As usual, he seemed to know what she would say before she even finished.

"I'll be going, then," he said as he got up and deposited his teacup in the sink.

Walking in after him, she remembered something else. "Oh wait, Kanda—" She liked how his name sounded on her tongue. "What's in that box?"

He smirked his infuriating smirk. "You'll see. There's a note with it."

Lenalee glared as she saw him to the door. "Why is it that you always leave like this?"

"Oh? I hadn't realized you missed me so much." He blinked innocently.

"That's not what I meant!" She scowled as she swatted his arm.

He caught her by the wrists and suddenly pulled her forward, stopping just short of her lips.

Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth to say something, but the words died in her throat. He was looking at her, seeming to search for something.

"Mm…"

They stayed like that for a while, before he grinned and breathed, "Until next time, princess."

And with the inhuman speed she had begun to associate him with, he was gone, the door closing gently in his wake.

**+†+**

Kanda peered surreptitiously into a window, watching her every move. She was still standing by the door, fingertips at her mouth.

Seeing her dazed expression, he turned away, satisfied.

Once he was sure no one would bear witness, he disappeared in a ghostly flicker.

His feet touched the roof lightly as he reached his destination and the grin he had worn all evening slipped from his face as if erased. He looked down slowly.

_His tower_.

He regarded it coolly, lips thinning with mild distaste.

Already he missed the feelings she evoked. He closed his eyes, hoping that if he couldn't see where he was, that feeling would come back to him.

Nothing. Nothing but the calm before the raging tides, silently waiting for him to lose control so they could have their day.

He hadn't been out and about like this for quite some time. Every time he returned, the halls echoed with unheard cries, each time more fervent than before.

Each time he returned, he found the walls more suffocating.

_Are you not weary—_

Angrily, he turned his head and emerged in his massive halls, a flare of black energy spiked with silver impatience.

_Are you not weary of ardent ways?_

He paced his confines once more, impatient yet understanding the importance that he bide his time.

For once, he was finally feeling the effects of time.

Stopping short, he whirled around and stared at an intricately carved side table. On it rested an equally ornate hourglass, housing a pale pink flower.

Slowly, like one in a dream, he walked towards it and hesitantly let his fingers slide against the glass. As true night fell, he stared at the fragile pieces of himself.

_Are you not?_

**+†+**

Winter was steadily approaching—there was a chill in the air and ghosts of winters past blew all around.

Shivering slightly, Lenalee curled up on the couch and stared at the box in her lap, eyes focused on the elegant scrawl on creamy parchment.

Turning the paper over and around yet again, she stared in confusion. That one single line remained, warning her not to open the box, no matter what, until Komui returned.

She had tried to play along—the box had sat there for two days, unopened, as evidence—but she was beginning to feel ridiculous.

Admittedly, she felt some anticipation and delight at being presented a gift, but she wondered now if it wasn't something meant for Komui after all.

She set down the parchment on the table and gazed at the box silently. A good five minutes passed before she sat up and held the box rigidly, a determined set to her shoulders.

He thought he could waltz into her life as he pleases, telling her everything and nothing, spinning her around, and demand things of her?

"There's no harm in just looking…" she murmured to herself, even as she was undoing the neat bow.

The ribbon fell off with a neat '_shh'_ and it lay across her lap, already forgotten. The silky fabric soon joined it. All that was left now was the lid.

Licking her lips, she hesitantly touched the cover, staring apprehensively.

She had half expected some sort of trap, but when no sparks flew and no bells rang, she lifted the lid off in one quick motion.

She had enough time to glimpse the edge of a petal before a surge of light blinded her. She yelped and hid behind her hand, rubbing spots of gold from her vision, and then she heard his voice.

"I had a feeling you wouldn't listen," he sighed.

Still blinking and seeing explosions, she felt rather than saw a hand take the box from her and a weight sinking down to join her on the couch.

Struggling to see, she saw that it was indeed Kanda who sat before her, a wry yet darkly delicious smirk on his face. He looked the same, and yet he felt different.

"How—" Looking around quickly, she noted that all windows and doors were locked. She _knew_ they were locked. Besides, it was well past midnight!

She licked her lips and tried again. "How did you get in?" Her voice grew smaller and her stomach dropped farther as she looked into those eyes.

They were knowing, hooded…

…dark.

"It's your fault, you know, for opening that box."

"No…no. What are you talking about? What is this?"

"You know what it is." He slid an arm across her shoulder and she shivered away. This wasn't the man from earlier. This was

_something_

Someone else.

"Stop it! It's not funny. Tell me what's going on." Her voice cracked but she was too caught up to notice.

Trapping her in the corner, he leaned forward and took a strand of her hair, fingering it slowly.

"You know. You may not want to, but you do," he murmured, stroking her hair as he did so.

She shoved his hand away and shot backwards as far as the soft cushions would allow. She stared at him angrily and snapped, "Know _what_?"

"Magic." She stopped cold.

"You know of its existence. You've witnessed it before."

No…this was a forbidden topic.

She held back a shiver and stubbornly shook her head, not meeting his eyes.

"Stop deluding yourself, Lenalee!" His voice was suddenly sharp, though his hand remained gentle.

Nervously, she edged away further as she felt the air crackle and dimly thought she saw shadows surrounding him.

He lowered his voice and shifted closer. "You see the lights that go on at night. You can't honestly still refuse to believe," he said softly.

This got her attention. Her eyes flicked up and saw in his eyes a strange glow. It reminded her of that light.

Her pent-up emotions finally erupted as she found an outlet. There was a desperate hope inside her that whatever craziness was going on, someone had finally caught on and would explain to her what it all meant.

Lenalee straightened suddenly, boring her eyes into his, a silent plea for help. She believed she had finally found someone willing to believe the inevitable.

She refused to believe the more sinister alternative.

Her hands came up to trap his, nails digging into his flesh. "You know." Her whisper was shaky and dry.

Hesitantly, Kanda nodded, showing little to no reaction to her fingers which had formed a steely grip around his forearms. In contrast to Lenalee's pulsing form, he was still, composed, and quiet.

She faltered at his lack of response, losing her sudden confidence. A few seconds ticked by before she bravely forged on. "What can you tell me about them? The lights, that is. Whose…whose doing that?"

He was motionless for some time, regarding her carefully. Finally, he let out a slow smile, but this one was different.

This one reminded her of the first time they had met, when she felt the edges of raw power emanating from him.

"I know who it is," he alleged.

Dimly, like ghostly spectator, she heard herself ask who.

His eyes hooded, he whispered to her ear, "You know who it is."

She was confused at first, lips parted in a slight 'o'.

His tongue darted out to tease the rim of her ear as his next words dropped like a lover's caress.

"Me."

Like a leopard watching its prey, he watched neutrally as realization dawned and froze her face into an icy landscape.

She sat still as stone, mind flicking through various stages of denial, confusion, and finally fear.

"You—" she had to stop and lick her lips—dread had silenced her voice—and she noticed his fixed stare.

"What do you want?" she finally managed in a fairly steady voice.

"Don't worry, I'm not here to eat you," he murmured sardonically, grasping a lock of her hair. His smile was bittersweet when she pulled away.

He moved back slightly—he would never say it, but her terrified stare, so much like a cornered rabbit, upset him. He saw her shoulders relax minutely when he stood, and so he kept his distance, locking his arms behind him.

"I am merely here with a warning."

She had relaxed a bit, but now tensed up again. "What…kind of warning?"

Now that he had her attention properly, he took his time. "You mortals are always so ignorant and naïve, blindly living your lives; though I suppose it isn't really your fault. Regardless, there are things far beyond your comprehension.

Some of you see the signs and yet choose to ignore them. Is it not retribution, then, when things fall apart?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Anger had strengthened her voice.

"Life," he started abruptly, "is about to change. Especially for you."

.

.

†

* * *

OHMYGOD FINALLY I'M DONE WITH THIS CHAPTER! I'm so sorry for the uber long wait and cliffhanger (again) but I couldn't figure out how to get from the beginning to the end, and it's already really long. In fact, they're getting steadily longer...


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